Juice for the Baby

£5GBP or more

Juice for the Baby on CD

Compact Disc (CD)

With a front cover photograph from Sergei Polishchuk, showing a family in the Ukraine c1950 unwrapping their new radio.
Includes unlimited streaming of Juice for the Baby
via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

about

After years exclusively playing live, award winning human and robot band Spacedog release their debut album, a studio version of their sought-after live set.

Obsessed with defunct machines, faded variety acts and English folk tales, Spacedog are known for their eerie performance on vocals, theremin, saw and percussion, and for the ensemble of 'uncanny' robots which accompanies them live on stage.

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about

SpacedogBrighton

Obsessed with defunct machines, faded variety acts and English folk tales, Spacedog are known for their strangely
unsettling, ethereal music, performed on vocals, theremin, saw, keyboard and percussion, and for the ‘uncanny’ robots who perform with them on stage.Awarded Best Music Event of Brighton Festival and Fringe 2011. Spacedog are grateful to PRS Foundation for their support....more

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Soon as they reached their mother's gate
so loud the bell they ring.
There's none so ready as their own mother dear
to loose these children in.

Said the lord to his lady
as he called for his horse,
'beware of that Lankin
that lives in the moss'.

Said the lord to his lady
as he rode away,
'beware of that Lankin
that lives in the hay'.

So they tied every window
and they tied it with a pin
save for one little window
where the Lankin crept in.

How can we eat my mother dear,
How can we make good cheer,
When you'll not let our souls to rest
in that place when we were there?

Hush a bye baby
Mother is near
Don't you cry my precious
Take an Ampére

Hush a bye nursie's
gone for the night
Mother will see
that the contacts are right.

While the light burns
She sleeps

The cock crows
The day doth dawn
The channering worm doth chide
If we be missed out from our place
a sore pain we must bide.

Track Name: Submariner (feat. Colin Uttley)

Put your hand in coal black water
A gold band tightens on your finger
Gold from a submariner
Mined from the vein
Murtled, cold
of some other mountain.
Dive, dive
You were born fit for it
Dive, dive
I'll swim to the ocean bed for you
I'll lick the minerals from your skin
If you'll dive into this bed of mine.

Nothing breaks the surface
as I'm pulled towards your bough
and breathe your air
shipwrecked, lost,
in these un-navigable waters.
Dive, dive
Fall down into it
Dive, dive
I'll bring dust of black diamonds
sweat
and swordfish tails
If you'll lie upon this bed of mine.

I heard you left me jus’ like that.
Tommy Tommy
Thought it was part of the act.
So they were laughing
as you were dying on the stage
lying entertainingly before the curtain.
The world uncertain
if this was just another joke
before you dusted off the cloak
that’s draped across your final take
as they cut to a commercial break.

Glass bottle, bottle glass
Tommy Tommy

If time and space could swerve and let me
climb inside my TV set
I’d find a way to step
beyond the test card,
minding capacitors and cathode rays,
and slide into the jet black blink between the picture frames.
There you’d be, smiling, top of your game.
Your miser’s bucket brim full of gold again.
With the dentist who told you to ‘say aah’ because his dog had died.
and the horse you backed at 10 to 1 that came in at ten past five.
You’d conjure with folds of silk, spinning words and delicious uncertainties
as you hunch your shoulders, laughing at your own absurdity.

But this is no magic box.
We both know your appearance is an illusion
Inside this contrivance of flickers in the room
Electrons hit metal and ‘spoon, jar, jar, spoon!’
you materialise, the great prestidigitator - playing the fool.
Embers of pixellated, electronic dust
ephemeral as a scarf of disappearing polkadots.
I can no more reach you from this distance
than a doll can speak truths without a ventriloquist.
Answer me this: Would we even like each other?
Or would we fight when the show is over
As you sidle to the bar and pour another,
hiding your troubles, wondering if you’re still beloved?